First off, "You don't understand; you're not____." isn't even worth arguing about because it's too obvious. No white person will ever truly understand a black person's experience, no man will every truly understand a woman's, no white or black person will ever fully understand a Latino's. That's life. Don't bother arguing. There is absolutely no way to change that.
I'll share my own story with you. Well. Stories.
I'm frequently stopped at the border into Canada, and of course since I'm a non-drug-running legal US citizen they find nothing and send me into the immigration office to have my passport reviewed and be given a form telling me that they are not responsible if my car falls apart now that they searched it... *sigh* But when I'm in there, I'm surrounded by people of Latino descent and Middle Eastern. And I look at my beige skin and wonder which one they thought I was. But whatever. I'll gladly be mistaken for Middle Eastern if it means just standing in line for half an hour as long as I'm not getting shot.
However, let me take you back to early summer 2001. I was 18, picking up a friend to go out. Her place was maybe 10 minutes from my own house, if that. I was dressed like any typical 18-year-old going to a club - kind of flashy, trying to be super trendy (probably looked like this. I definitely recall this being 'my look' for awhile). My car wasn't flashy, I didn't have tinted windows, at that time I only had one speeding ticket, which I'd gone to school for and paid the fine. No warrants, no nothing.
I was pulled over. I'm on a residential street, no street lights, can't see shit, so I'm driving extra careful, so I knew I wasn't pulled over for speeding. In hindsight, maybe I looked suspicious because I was driving slowly? But even that doesn't justify what came next.
The cop came to my window, looked at me, and immediately told me to get out of the car. I was never asked for ID. I didn't react right away, because I was like, wait, what? So he tried to open my door. My seatbelts were the kind that attached right to the door, so he wasn't able to open it. I kept saying, wait the belt is attached, and I instinctively tried to unbuckle myself.
That's when the gun came out.
I screamed and just held my hands in front of my face. Now I'm practically crying and just repeating, what's going on, what do you want? He's just shouting at me to get out of the car. In fact, "Get the fuck out of the car, now!" I get out, his partner (who I never even saw until now) grabs me and puts me against my car, hands on the roof, starts patting me down. They're asking me over and over, 'where are you coming from, where are you going, what are you doing here.'
I said I just came from my house in [my town], I'm picking up a friend, we're going to Hysteria to a foam party. (By they way, if you ever have the opportunity to go to a foam party in your life, do it. Just wear clothes that you're not worried about getting destroyed.)
I was questioned again, very specifically: Where are you coming from and what are you doing here?
'My house in [my town], and I'm picking up my friend, she lives right there.' I pointed.
They asked again: Where are you coming from, what are you doing here? This went on at least five times.
It took my (white) friend's mom looking out the window to see what the commotion was, recognizing my car, and having the balls to come outside and demand to know what was happening, to make all of this stop.
Then, they FINALLY allowed me to show them my ID. And then they never spoke directly to me again. It was as if I wasn't there.
They informed my friend's mom that they'd gotten reports of a speeding car in the area. Let that sink in. A speeding car. Have you ever gotten pulled over for speeding and experienced this?
Didn't think so.
I also want to repeat: "reports" of a speeding car. Not, we saw you speeding and followed you, but we had reports. I know that not everyone here went to the police academy here, so that might not mean anything to you, but I DO have a law enforcement education, and let me tell you how things go: The cop has to see you speeding, whether with his eyes or radar, to lawfully make that stop.
So if someone called them and said,'Hey, someone is speeding!' and they happened to be nearby and make it to that area, they would also have to see a speeding car. They can't just pull a random one over and somehow determine it was speeding a few minutes ago. That's how I knew that story was total bullshit.
Afterwards, they handed my license back to me without a word. Told my friend's mom to have a good night, and drove away. I didn't want to go out anymore, and had to sleep at my friend's house because I was too afraid to drive back home at night.
My takeaway? Just being half-back and driving slow was a crime that night. I wasn't a terrified teenage girl just trying to go to the club, I was just black. And that was enough to pull me out of a car, at gunpoint, with no explanation.
I could have been the dead teen on the sidewalk that night.
Part of me is like, joke's on you guys, you and I work for the same town now.